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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122565">[C] A Formal Court</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs'>OneofWebs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eskel x Geralt x Jaskier A/B/O - Traditions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Baking, Courting Rituals, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Period-Typical Sexism, Poetry, Polyamory, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, mentions of abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:01:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30122565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt and Jaskier have had a fulfilling relationship up until now, but they both end up feeling something is missing. For this reason, they attend parties, seeking out a third party to their relationship--an alpha. After several tries, Jaskier finally meets Eskel, and though he's not exactly proper, Jaskier is enamored.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Eskel x Geralt x Jaskier A/B/O - Traditions [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942810</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>[C] A Formal Court</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternally_Damned/gifts">Eternally_Damned</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ahhhh this is a PREQUEL to the other ones in the series. it'll be arranged that this one shows up first tho :3c</p>
<p>this is really nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, but there are some mentions of sexual things. nothing explicit tho just good ol fashioned fun. hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At eighteen, Jaskier decided that he was done with the noble life and its frivolities. Its courtships, its rules, and its stuffy expectations were suffocating, and he hadn’t wanted to spend a moment longer suffering through the drivel. After he had his signed degree from Oxenfurt Academy, Jaskier took his lute, his clothes, and all the coin left to his name to hit the road. A carriage was supposed to take him home, cart him across the roads from Redania to Kerrack, across the Pontar, but Jaskier was gone before it ever arrived.</p>
<p>He’d been Julian Alfred Pankratz before, but Jaskier had been a name from school. From the moment he hit the road, it stuck. He was Jaskier instead of Julian, and it was Jaskier who played in a tavern for meager pennies and enjoyed it. Jaskier who, upon catching the eye of a white-haired stranger in the back, set his lute to its strap and made way across the room. The crowd was forgotten in that moment, as he leaned against a pole and just looked at the man, who looked back.</p>
<p>History happened there in that rundown little tavern, though it had taken some weeks for it to come into fruition. Some weeks, but they had been weeks that were worth it for how they traveled together, how the man turned from a man, to a Witcher, to Geralt. Just Geralt. And he went from gruff, to closed off, to something more wonderful than Jaskier could have imagined. Everything about him was strong, <em>protective</em>, and everything Jaskier could have ever asked for.</p>
<p>The selling point was that he was a beta. Geralt of Rivia, famed monster hunter and else Butcher of Blaviken, was nothing more than a normal, average beta. Jaskier needed the normal and the average, because thinking of what his own parents had often terrified for him the future. Being tied to an alpha like his father, who had little regard for his omegan mother’s agency, despite the love they so obviously shared, seemed a fate to slavery. Being tied to a beta who didn’t <em>care</em>—encouraged, often how Jaskier’s own beta parent had—seemed twice as bad.</p>
<p>Jaskier didn’t want that. A lone, beta monster hunter was <em>just</em> what he needed, and the moment he figured that out, history happened again. It had been after a hunt when Geralt still had toxic, dark lines on his face and a growl in his voice when Jaskier couldn’t stop himself, and Geralt reciprocated. When Jaskier ran at him, Geralt caught him under his thighs, held him, and kissed him. Within seconds, Jaskier felt his back pressed into the bedroll at their camp, and it was in the middle of the woods with nothing but the stars above them that Jaskier took Geralt’s cock for the first time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Things were much the same, now. They were in a forest clearing, not far from the main road, and Jaskier as lying naked in the bedroll with a fur blanket pulled up to his neck. The fire crackled before him, and Geralt, only half-dressed with his armor set aside, sat beside it with a long stick to stoke the embers. When he noticed Jaskier was awake, he looked down, and he offered a soft smile illuminated only by the flames. Geralt only saw Jaskier’s first in return because he could see through the darkness that surrounded him.</p>
<p>Geralt could also smell those particular little scents that even Jaskier struggled to pick up on, and being an omega naturally made him more sensitive to smells. However, he could hardly pick up the scents he, himself gave off. Often, he was blind to those. Geralt could only smell them at their strongest because he was a Witcher; most betas couldn’t pick up on these finer things, but Geralt could. They worried him.</p>
<p>Despite how much Jaskier hated his circumstance of birth and didn’t want to acknowledge it, outside of the <em>fun</em> he could have with the plumbing he had, he was still an omega. He was still an omega who went into heat, and even though he took suppressants while they were on the road, he still went through hormonal shifts. Scent shifts. Often times, this made him insatiable. It was a night like now that Geralt could smell it, that despite having just finished, Jaskier still smelled like he <em>wanted</em>.</p>
<p>It was the kind of want that Geralt would never be able to solve, because he wasn’t what Jaskier’s body <em>wanted</em>. Betas and omegas could have their own relationships; it wasn’t as if this were strange or wrong. It just came with its own complications, and this was one of them. To make up for his lack of knot, Geralt would often try to just go as long as Jaskier needed. It was easy enough with his Witcher stamina, a potion if he needed one, but sometimes it was just a reminder that something was missing.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Jaskier hummed, reaching out for him. “Come back to bed.”</p>
<p>Geralt shook his head. “You need to sleep. Someone has to keep a watch.”</p>
<p>Jaskier pouted, as he often did when he knew he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. What he wanted was for Geralt to slip back into their shared bedroll, press up behind him, and sink right back into his cunt. Jaskier felt <em>empty</em> and cold, and Geralt was the only one who could fix it. Geralt refused, so Jaskier pouted, and he whined, then pressed his face into his arms.</p>
<p>“Look,” Geralt started, then sighed. He dropped his stick to the side and put his face in his hands. “I think we should look at—”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaskier snapped before he heard it. He knew what Geralt was going to say.</p>
<p>“You don’t want to? Am I the only one who feels like something is missing? I can’t—” It hurt to admit it more often than not. “I can’t keep you satisfied.”</p>
<p>“You <em>can</em>. You do. It’s just,” Jaskier pushed himself up, “right now. It’s not always. Come on, Geralt.”</p>
<p>Geralt shook his head, then sighed. There was no arguing with Jaskier, not when he looked like that. His skin was soft and pale, and he had this perfect, beautiful body. Wider hips, a smaller waist. A perfect omega. Even Geralt was helpless to him when he looked like that, batting eyelashes and flushing like he could control that. Jaskier could bend the strongest man to his knees; Geralt had seen it once or twice, and then always had the luxury of being the one Jaskier went to.</p>
<p>The fire was burning, and Geralt didn’t need to stare at it to keep it that way. He pushed himself from his seat and crawled his way into the bedroll, but he did so in a way that left their chests flush together. Jaskier shuddered against Geralt, reveling in the feeling of <em>skin</em>. Already, he could feel Geralt’s cock hardening in his trousers, so Jaskier reached for him. In the same movement, he hiked his leg up onto Geralt’s hip to make sure they were close, and after that, it was like falling into an old, familiar dance.</p>
<p>Once Geralt’s cock was freed, Jaskier couldn’t wait long enough to ensure it was fully hard. He just canted his hips, gasping as his own straining little cocklet rubbed against Geralt’s pelvis.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” he gasped, and Geralt grabbed him by the hips. Did the rest for him.</p>
<p>With one shift, Jaskier cried out as Geralt’s cock sunk into him. Still partially soft, but hard enough that it <em>worked</em>, and Jaskier rutted himself down against it. His body shook with this sudden, hot pleasure, and Jaskier tilted his head back. An open invitation for Geralt to lean in and mouth at his neck, nip at his supple, soft skin. Geralt took it, too weak to do anything else. He ground himself against Jaskier, bit at his neck, and held him just as close as either one of them could stand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three months passed before Jaskier started to feel a bit of an uneasy pit in his stomach, and at first, he just assumed it was the food that they’d eaten. Geralt hunted mostly, but some days they just ate whatever was left in the saddle bags. Rightfully, Jaskier could have eaten something rotten or off. If he were sick, however, it was like that Geralt would have caught on. So far, Geralt hadn’t said much to him on the matter. Things were normal.</p>
<p>They’d stopped in a little, rickety town south of the Pontar. Despite how learned Jaskier considered himself to be; he didn’t think he would ever be able to point out where they were on a map. Places like this didn’t get put o maps because they were small and useless; the only real point of interest this town had was a shrine at the entrance and a baker who produced honey flavored bread. The bread was fine, quite so in fact, but it didn’t make up for their poor accommodations, and it didn’t make up for this queasy feeling Jaskier had been stricken with.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Jaskier muttered, grabbing him by the arm. There wasn’t time to be offended that Geralt hadn’t noticed his state.</p>
<p>They were at the local tavern, which wasn’t much of a tavern at all, just a place where they served ale. Geralt was supposed to be meeting someone here, ready to take on their life’s problem for a bit of coin, and Jaskier was just along for the ride. Hoping it would be something worthy of a story, but mostly just for lack of a better place to put him. Jaskier didn’t have anywhere to go but with Geralt, so they stuck together quite unlike anything else.</p>
<p>“What is it?” Geralt didn’t even look at him, but he didn’t need to.</p>
<p>“I don’t feel good.” Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and clutched at him a bit pathetically.</p>
<p>Geralt leaned back against him, resting his head on Jaskier’s. “Go back to the camp, then,” he whispered. “Try and get some rest. Don’t think I’ll be done with this for a bit.” They weren’t camped so far from town that it would be dangerous for Jaskier to stay there alone. Besides, he knew well enough how to protect himself in a dire circumstance. Still.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to leave you,” Jaskier whined. “Geralt, take care of me.”</p>
<p>Geralt sighed, then reached over to ruffle his gloved fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier whimpered and pressed his face even harder against Geralt’s shoulder, desperate to try and win his way, but Geralt couldn’t give in. As much as he might have wanted to, Geralt had other responsibilities to tend to. Unless he retired from a Witcher’s path, he would never have endless time to devote to Jaskier, and while that wasn’t a problem, Jaskier did wish every now and again for days they could just spend in bed. Those came rarely.</p>
<p>“I’ll bring back something for you to eat,” Geralt promised. “Go rest.”</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded, “Alright. I’ll <em>rest</em>, but you’d better return to me this evening. If I hear that you’ve run off with some small town woman—”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted and shrugged Jaskier off of his shoulder. “I think you’re talking about yourself.”</p>
<p>Jaskier grinned, then, and took his leave just as Geralt’s contact made their way to the table instead. Before he walked off, Jaskier stretched and cracked his shoulders, but then he left the makeshift tavern in favor of their comfortable, cozy little camp just outside of town. Despite their need for a Witcher, this town didn’t like Geralt, and so they hadn’t been allowed further accommodations. Which was fine enough, as Jaskier was used to the camping, now.</p>
<p>With the gentle concern Geralt showed him, Jaskier found himself feeling a bit better as he walked through the town. The moment he was alone again, working to start the fire and seated on his bedroll, the nausea returned. This time, it was a dull ache, and Jaskier realized all too soon that it couldn’t have possibly been something he ate. The feeling in his gut was anxiousness, not true sickness, and it traveled upward to where his heart was seized in his chest.</p>
<p>This must have been the feeling Geralt mentioned: that something was <em>missing</em>. Geralt hadn’t brought it up again since Jaskier shut the conversation down, which was kind of him, but now Jaskier was left potentially having to be the one to bring it back up again all on his own. Maybe something was missing. Maybe that something was an alpha.</p>
<p>Acknowledging that was a strange thing. Jaskier had never <em>wanted</em> an alpha, not even in his youth when he would daydream of the future. Thinking that he needed more felt like a disservice to Geralt, on top of things, who had done more than enough to keep him happy and safe since they’d met. And still, Jaskier felt this yearning in his body that he couldn’t ignore.</p>
<p>Geralt hadn’t exactly courted him, and at the time, Jaskier hadn’t exactly wanted to be courted. They’d fallen into bed together just because it seemed like the thing to do and never looked back. It had been <em>nice</em>, but if they were both going to agree that something was wrong, then Jaskier wanted everything he could have. He wanted it properly, too. After deciding that, all he had left to do was tell Geralt, which set a different sort of burning in his stomach.</p>
<p>This anxiousness would eat him from the inside out, but he couldn’t run back into town and confess his new truth to Geralt. Geralt was likely gone on his hunt already, cutting down whatever monster it was terrorizing this little place. When he returned, Jaskier would say something. Until then, he laid down on his bedroll, arms wrapped around his stomach, and tried not to think very much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Geralt returned sometime during the night at the precise moment that Jaskier had jolted back away, having drifted off to the crackling of the fire. He had tried desperately to stay awake until Geralt’s return, and all things considered, he’d nearly done a good job of it. If not for the fact that he had gone and fallen asleep, he might have even succeeded. What mattered was that Geralt returned, and Jaskier was some modicum of awake, despite the fact that he was clearly tired.</p>
<p>After depositing his swords to the ground, Geralt sat right beside Jaskier on his bedroll and, sensing the exhaustion as well as he saw it plainly, pulled Jaskier in to rest upon his shoulder. Jaskier slumped right into him willingly, then closed his eyes as he made himself comfortable. Geralt stoked the flame back to life before he truly settled down where he sat, and even then, it was just to make sure Jaskier was more comfortable.</p>
<p>“You could have gone to bed,” Geralt said. “No sense in staying up for me. Past midnight.”</p>
<p>Jaskier hummed, then yawned. “Wanted to.” While that only covered half of it, Jaskier needed time to think about the rest of it.</p>
<p>Despite the weak answer, Geralt accepted it and nodded. He tilted just far enough to press a kiss to Jaskier’s head, and then returned to the fire. He had brought something back to eat, just as he promised, but it still needed cooking. While Geralt got it ready to roast over their meager fire, he recanted Jaskier the tale of how this town, despite Geralt having just freed them of their little wraith problem, still wouldn’t allow him to even buy their food. They certainly weren’t going to give it to him.</p>
<p>For that reason, he’d just caught something on his way back to the tent. Nighttime was the perfect hour for hunting, and his senses made it almost too easy. More a game, than anything, though Geralt would never joke about something as serious as ensuring Jaskier was well cared for on the road. While he was getting used to it, this still wasn’t the life Jaskier preferred, so Geralt did his best to make it comfortable where he could. On days where comfort couldn’t be bothered, Jaskier just dealt with the foot ache and the flavorless meat.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Jaskier cut in, right at the end of Geralt’s tale of the rabbits he’d brought back for them.</p>
<p>“Hm?” Geralt took it to mean that perhaps his story had gotten too detailed and quieted immediately, but he looked at Jaskier who had taken on the face of a man rather serious. Jaskier was serious so rarely that it meant something, always.</p>
<p>“I’ve been—feeling rather strange, of late,” Jaskier admitted, then shifted uncomfortable. The ache had only started that morning, but Jaskier realized the feeling had been with him longer. Years, maybe. “And it had me thinking back on that time ago where you mentioned something was missing.”</p>
<p>Geralt gave a soft smile, then reached out for Jaskier’s hand to give him a reassuring, gentle squeeze. With that, Jaskier took a deep breath, squeezed back, and continued.</p>
<p>“Taking on an alpha terrifies me, you ought to know that. My whole life, I was told that I was to be wed to one, no matter my feelings on the matter. I would be courted for the public to see, married, and then whatever happened after would be my own personal nightmare. Everyone would see the picture that my alpha painted for them to see, and if they so chose to rape me every Monday afternoon behind closed doors, it would be allowed. The joys of noble life.” Jaskier gave a weak smile. He left out the part about how he was just as like to see his beta partner encourage such behavior, because that was far more frightening. Complacency.</p>
<p>“Even give the best alpha, I would still have been condemned to a life of child rearing, dishes, and mending holes in the linens. While nothing of the sort is bad on its own, it’s not the sort of life I wanted to be forced into. Should I get to choose it, then fine, but not <em>forced</em>.” Jaskier shook his head. “You know the rest, how I ran away, played in taverns, and found you at some point.” He knocked into Geralt’s shoulder, and Geralt gave a warm, pleasant hum in response.</p>
<p>“Point being, I wish to try and find one. I think you were correct in your assessment, that something <em>is</em> missing, but I refuse to have one who would force me into the kitchen for the rest of my life.”</p>
<p>Geralt shook his head, then pulled Jaskier into him. “You think so little of me that I’d let that happen? May <em>want</em> you to stay somewhere safe instead of carting around behind me, but I still know how much you enjoy this. Wouldn’t force you into some arrangement you’re not happy with.”</p>
<p>That allowed Jaskier to release the hefty sigh in his lips, and then he nodded. “Thank you, Geralt. I—I’d hoped you’d understand.”</p>
<p>“I do.”</p>
<p>“That just begs the question, then, of how do you intend to find me one?” Jaskier pulled away to look at Geralt and meet his gaze. “You <em>will</em> find me one. I expect this to be a bit more proper than you and I were.”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted, amused.</p>
<p>“I’d like to be <em>courted</em>, too, so don’t think that just any alpha from a tavern will do for me. I have the highest of standards. Nigh unreachable, in fact, and you should do your best to impress me. I’ll take nothing less.”</p>
<p>Geralt laughed, that time, a real and true genuine laugh straight from the gut. He pulled Jaskier into him, and amid Jaskier’s struggle to be freed, ended with Jaskier lying down in his lap, panting and flushed in the face.</p>
<p>“Let me take a guess,” Geralt rumbled. “It’s Julian Alfred Prankmouse?”</p>
<p>Jaskier frowned. “Now, you’re just being an arse.”</p>
<p>“Entirely.” Geralt stroked back Jaskier’s hair. “Julian Alfred Pankratz. Believe with a name like that, we might get into some fancy parties. We don’t have to find another noble, or anything, but—”</p>
<p>Before Geralt could finish, Jaskier pushed up out of his lap and all but launched at him, arms around his neck and squeezing tight. Geralt felt the breath punched out of him, but he wrapped Jaskier in a tight hug the moment he had it back, smiled, and pressed his nose to Jaskier’s neck. He offered Jaskier a soothing stroke to the back, as well, and felt Jaskier practically purr against him in response. Jaskier was happy: he looked it, smelled it, and felt it.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, squeezing tighter still. “I can search for those parties, get us in.” He pulled back. “You’ll do the rest? Oh, we’ll need to find some clothes to wear. We can’t have someone thinking that <em>I</em><em>’m</em> up for grabs, now can we?”</p>
<p>Geralt shook his head. “Hope not. Kinda like you right here. With me.” Geralt shrugged. “Mind opening your coffers for the new clothes, though? I don’t think a Witcher’s salary is going to get us much of anything. Barely pays for the armor repairs.”</p>
<p>Jaskier gave a light giggle, nodding as he did. It scrunched his face up with too much joy that it was hard to look at, but Geralt cupped his face and smiled, anyway. “I’ll see what I can do,” Jaskier said.</p>
<p>“Alright.” Geralt patted Jaskier’s hip, then. “Need to finish some dinner for us. Make yourself comfortable somewhere else.”</p>
<p>Never one to do things quite so easily, Jaskier leaned in and stole a hard kiss before he scrambled away. Geralt gave a fond shake of the head, laughed, and then turned his focus to the cooking of their dinner. They’d have to go to town to get new clothes, and they were <em>fancy</em> clothes from what Geralt knew. Entirely impractical, difficult to wear, but they were important clothing items for these parties. Geralt could leave most of it to Jaskier, and he would just have to consider what sort of alpha they were looking for.</p>
<p>Because it was about them, not just Jaskier finding a second partner. Geralt would be the glue that tied them together, and he knew it, which meant he had to like the alpha, too. That marked off anyone who hated Witchers right off the list, and the remaining pool, as far as Geralt knew, wasn’t very big. They would have to sort through nobles and normal people, decide whether or not Jaskier preferred a male alpha or a female alpha, and then parse through the ones who wanted a servant for an omega instead of an equal partner.</p>
<p>After that, Geralt figured this might just be the most difficult thing he’d never decided to do, but looking down at Jaskier as he made himself comfortable in their second bedroll eased his worries. He could do it for Jaskier, especially when Jaskier gave him those half-lidded eyes and that light, beautiful smile. It was then Geralt decided that he was going to find Jaskier the best alpha that he could, no matter how many parties they had to worm their way into.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the third party, Geralt began to realize how difficult the task he gave himself, was. They were in a large banquet hall surrounded by other alphas, omegas, and betas. Not all of them were paired, but that was the point of the dress. The colors and the styles were all designed to denote the status of whatever person had entered the party, and there were further things outside of that, often provided by those who hosted these parties, to pair people together.</p>
<p>Jaskier was wearing a long, red dress that held little shape to it aside from the belt around the middle, and from that belt draped a second and a third skirt, creating layers of different shades. The sleeves were tight to the elbow, and then long, with a collar that went straight up to his jaw. How he could breathe was a miracle in and of itself, but he looked like a dream. Aside from it, he had golden lines woven into his hair and cuffs on his ears. He and Geralt wore matching broaches, of which Jaskier’s was affixed to his left breast over top of the embroidered floral pattern.</p>
<p>Geralt was taken <em>and</em> looking for a match, and so his outfit was a rather eye-straining mix of red and blue with an equally high neckline, tight sleeves, and draperies. He wore a cape strapped across his chest and hanging over his body, and on the opposite side was his own broach. No broach set was the same, and not every party attendee wore one, either. Some who attended these parties were entirely alone, and therefore didn’t need one to denote their pair.</p>
<p>Those who were entirely free and looking to be whisked away into a match wore purple outfits of equal stuffiness, though they were somehow tighter, and the fabric flowed better. Those who were <em>not</em> looking wore black; they were rare, but they did exist. Often, they would attend the parties as a chaperon for a friend or family member, and many of them were guards. Formal events tended to attract the wrong kind of company, like bandits and thieves. Guards were necessary, especially in a place like this.</p>
<p>Jaskier had not seen more than a few square feet of the room, however, and it was the same square feet that Geralt was standing in with his arms crossed behind his back and a critical eye. A man stood in front of them, tall and lanky with dusty brown hair, with an air about him that definitely spoke noble. Even if he hadn’t introduced himself to be such, Jaskier would have known it by the way that he walked, much less how he stood there leering down despite being half a head shorter than Geralt. Only nobles could do that.</p>
<p>“I said <em>no</em>,” Geralt repeated, a growl in his voice. “Did you not hear the first time?”</p>
<p>“You haven’t even heard what I have to offer?”</p>
<p>“Maybe not, but I can see the way you’re looking at him.”</p>
<p>Jaskier wrung his hands together, and then fisted them into his top skirt. He’d seen the way the noble stared at him, too, and he hadn’t liked it. Still, he was beginning to ache with need to just <em>meet</em> someone. Three parties, and Geralt hadn’t let him speak to a single soul. All of them had been turned away for some inane reason or another. Despite how much Jaskier wanted to see this alpha go, he still wanted to maybe at least talk to him. Talk to someone. Geralt was far more protective than Jaskier might have thought for the trouble they got into.</p>
<p>“He’s a fine specimen,” the alpha replied, which only made Jaskier’s heart sink further.</p>
<p>Those were the words that someone looking to turn him into a broodmare used. Condemn him to a life of child rearing. He hadn’t ever had the time to consider if he <em>wanted</em> a child, too afraid of what wanting one might mean. Especially if these were the alphas who wanted them, too. Jaskier wasn’t looking to produce heirs.</p>
<p>“Get. Away,” Geralt growled, then took a menacing step forward. “If you even look at him, I will wring your neck.”</p>
<p>The alpha even backed away. Geralt had that air about him, when he wanted to; he could be even more intimidating than an alpha, and he didn’t need the scents to do it. Just his eyes would do the trick, and the growl in his voice. When Jaskier was concerned, Geralt would throw just about any sense of decorum out, as well, because Jaskier was something to protect. Too many of these alphas were looking for consensual abuse, not a partner. Geralt wouldn’t settle for anyone who wouldn’t see Jaskier as their equal.</p>
<p>The alpha noble conceded and eventually just walked away, finally learning that his own brand of intimidation wasn’t going to work. Not on a Witcher, and certainly not on Geralt. It didn’t matter that he was just a beta, because <em>just a beta</em> didn’t mean much more these days than trying to downplay the role that they had. Geralt was just as important, just as strong, and just as protective as any alpha would be. In the right situations, even Jaskier might find himself baring his teeth if it meant protecting his partner.</p>
<p>Despite it all, Jaskier still found himself a bit annoyed. That was the third person Geralt had turned away, already, and they’d not been at this party for an hour, yet. Jaskier wanted to at least be able to enjoy the party, too, but he hadn’t been able to step more than three paces from Geralt’s side before he was snapped at, which meant he hadn’t had any food. The only wine he’d had was wine brought to them by a stuffy, uptight server. Might as well have been Geralt’s twin, despite the fact that they looked nothing alike.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Jaskier spoke up, tugging at his arm. “I’m hungry. Could I go get something to eat?” He shouldn’t have had to ask.</p>
<p>Other taken omegas got to just walk away whenever they so pleased. They even got to talk and mingle to themselves, which wasn’t something Jaskier even wanted to bring up. Not with how Geralt was acting, lest he get his own head chewed off in the process. Geralt would think the whole thing too dangerous.</p>
<p>“I’ll take you,” Geralt said. “Wouldn’t want you running into that fuck again.”</p>
<p>Jaskier’s brow crinkled, but he took Geralt’s arm regardless and walked with him. This was getting stifling, but he didn’t have the courage to say anything just yet. Food was good enough.</p>
<p>When they approached the table, Jaskier was at least allowed to pick out his own meal from the large array. He picked something light, but filling, and then sneaked a handful of cheese cubes into his mouth, not on his plate.</p>
<p>“I don’t think we’re going to find anyone here,” Geralt muttered as he watched Jaskier scavenge.</p>
<p>Jaskier sighed. That’s what Geralt had said at the last two parties, too. While Jaskier hadn’t expected to find someone quickly, he had at least expected some say in the matter. So far, Geralt had turned away everyone, even the ones that Jaskier had found charming or sweet.</p>
<p>“We should go,” Geralt said, then gestured to Jaskier’s meal. “After you’re done.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Jaskier deflated. “I haven’t even gotten to speak to anyone.”</p>
<p>“There’s nobody worth talking to.”</p>
<p>“Figured them all out, then, have you?” Jaskier wore his disbelief on his face, but Geralt took him seriously and nodded.</p>
<p>“None of them are good enough,” he reiterated. “Eat, and then we’ll go. It’s not up for debate.”</p>
<p>A grumbling sigh broke from Jaskier’s throat, but he gave a defeated nod and nibbled at his plate instead of arguing. There was no arguing with Geralt, not here, not if Jaskier didn’t want to make a scene about it. And he didn’t. He knew where Geralt was coming from and why he was so picky; he took Jaskier’s fears seriously and wouldn’t be the one to accidentally subject him to them. It was possible to break off the courting process, but it was arduous and difficult. Better to pick correctly the first time.</p>
<p>However, Jaskier feared they would never <em>get</em> to pick, because Geralt was going to turn away every potential suitor simply for how they found Jaskier attractive. He was attractive. Geralt thought so well enough that he would near fuck Jaskier on command some days, just because Jaskier batted his eyelashes and spread his thighs a little. If thinking Jaskier was attractive was a sin, then Geralt was its worst perpetrator and therefore, by his own rules, had no right to be with Jaskier.</p>
<p>The whole thing was stupid, and Jaskier was fed up with it. Three parties had amounted to nothing, which put them right back to the beginning of finding another party, traveling, getting invited, and then attending. A task in itself that took at least a week, if Jaskier pulled the right strings. He was ready for the challenge, however, and hoped that the <em>fourth</em> one would be the charm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their next party was situated on a beautifully lit riverbed with dancing lights, decorated trees, and a great white tent over the area to keep away the elements. It was night, so the moon and stars hung nicely in the sky as the perfect backdrop, and everything was lively. The hosts had saw fit to pay for a troupe, who came with their instruments, their jugglers, and their singers to perform enough variety that no one would be put out for the evening. The food smelled fresh and steamed with its heat, and the wine had been imported directly from Toussaint. The best they could offer.</p>
<p>The truth of the evening was that it was a special party, one the hosts concocted specifically to find their daughter a place in the world. Jaskier had gotten an invitation because his aunt knew the brother of the husband who was hosting the event, and that was enough to have him and his own partner welcomed with open arms. Given the private nature of the event, only the best of the best were allowed in. <em>Suitable partners</em>, as it were, but if they still didn’t please Geralt, Jaskier had a plan.</p>
<p>He didn’t have an exact plan, but he knew he was going to do something, and it started with the first person who proved his securities entirely incorrect.</p>
<p>Jaskier was dressed as a taken, partnered omega, which meant by tradition that anyone who wanted to talk to him had to talk to his partner first. Betas were the ones who arranged a third party into the relationship, not the omega. It was tradition, and yet this alpha had saw fit to walk right up to Jaskier, grab him from behind, and pull him in. Jaskier yelped as he felt his back hit the man’s chest, and Geralt heard the yelp.</p>
<p>Within seconds, Geralt pulled the alpha away, nearly throwing him back and into the table set up with food. Thankfully, the alpha caught himself before that, and didn’t even manage to get a word in edgewise. Geralt turned his back to the alpha, immediately, and put his hands on Jaskier’s face.</p>
<p>“Jaskier,” he rasped, “are you okay?”</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded. He was shaken, nothing more, and Geralt’s concern really wasn’t all that necessary. Though Jaskier knew he should have stopped to appreciate it, he knew this was the point to enact his plan. That was the exact sort of alpha that Jaskier didn’t want, but if he didn’t do something now, Geralt was going to use this as an excuse to put the whole search to an end. He knew it. No alpha had put their hands on Jaskier, yet, and the fact that this one had that sort of audacity was almost unheard of.</p>
<p>“I—I need a minute,” Jaskier stammered out. “I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>“Jaskier, you shouldn’t—”</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>, Geralt,” Jaskier snapped. “I need to breathe. Please. Why am I even having to ask for my own space?” He curled his arms up close to his chest and gripped right at the base of his neck.</p>
<p>Geralt deflated. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Jaskier hadn’t meant for it to be like that, and he hadn’t expected Geralt to give in so easily, either, but it worked. His escape was made. Jaskier left Geralt’s side for the first time in over a month, and Geralt just watched him go. He could continue searching for a partner without Jaskier at his side, and Jaskier really needed the chance to breathe.</p>
<p>Already thinking of how he could apologize for his outburst, Jaskier stepped outside of the tent on wobbly legs, his fingers still clutched into his bright red dress. It really wasn’t so bad, what Geralt was doing; he was just trying to keep Jaskier safe, and that alpha reminded Jaskier exactly why he needed to be kept safe. Too many of that man’s kind lurked around, and even Geralt was intimately aware of them. Had dealt with too many of them on contracts. Geralt wasn’t <em>trying</em> to be cruel, and Jaskier shouldn’t treat him to the contrary.</p>
<p>Not finding a partner meant this ache of something missing would never go away, and Jaskier was trying to convince himself to be okay with that. Consumed by his thoughts, Jaskier wandered from the tent and out into the tall grasses surrounding. He just wanted to be able to see the night sky, hoping that it might do something to clear his head. He’d be okay if they never found an alpha; he would be. He had Geralt, and Geralt took care of him. Geralt couldn’t give him a home, stability, or even a baby, but Jaskier was coming to terms with the fact that he may not even want those.</p>
<p>“Hey,” a sudden voice caught Jaskier off guard. It was a deep, rumbling voice, as though the man spoke from his gut and not his throat. More so, he smelled like an alpha. “You’re a party guest?”</p>
<p>Jaskier turned, looked, and took one step back. Initially, he was afraid. He was a lone omega out, away from the crowd, and a rather large alpha was approaching him. The alpha was tall, probably taller than Geralt by an inch or so, and had broad shoulders. He wore armor, too, which did little to calm Jaskier, though it was clearly hand-stitched armor and not the metal plates the noble guards wore.</p>
<p>“Y-yes,” Jaskier stammered.</p>
<p>“You should head back,” the alpha said, and came to a stop at an appropriate distance. “Dangerous out here.”</p>
<p>“What are you doing out here, then?”</p>
<p>The alpha scoffed, amused. “Not a guest. Hired me to help guard the party. Sure you noticed we’re by the river, and the river could mean monsters. Just don’t want you getting hurt.”</p>
<p>Jaskier smiled, then. “Oh,” he said. “Why thank you. I appreciate the warning.”</p>
<p>When the alpha stepped closer, Jaskier could see him better, and suddenly, his heart was flying. Though the man was scarred, his mouth misshapen by whatever had befallen him, Jaskier couldn’t help but think he was <em>beautiful</em>. This was a feeling Jaskier had known once and only once before, and it was when his eyes caught Geralt’s from across the room of that dusty tavern. They didn’t have to talk for Jaskier to know <em>this</em> was the alpha he wanted.</p>
<p>“Would you like to come into the party?” Jaskier asked, taking a very pointed step forward. The alpha noticed.</p>
<p>“Don’t think that’s appropriate.” He gestured to Jaskier’s attire, as it flaunted that he wasn’t exactly on the market, though not entirely in the way the alpha seemed to guess. Still, it was a vague knowledge of the finery Jaskier was going through, and that only did more to make his chest seize.</p>
<p>“Oh, but it is,” Jaskier attested.</p>
<p>“They don’t want a Witcher in there.”</p>
<p>Jaskier hadn’t even noticed, but now with that knowledge, he couldn’t help but laugh. “My partner is a Witcher,” he said. “A beta. We’re <em>looking</em> for an alpha. Oh, please, you must come meet him.”</p>
<p>The alpha flushed, then put his hand over his mouth. He reacted in a familiar way, because this was what Geralt did when he didn’t know how to refuse Jaskier. That only solidified Jaskier’s want. He <em>knew</em> this was going to work.</p>
<p>“Come with me,” Jaskier pleaded, then reached out to take the alpha’s hand. He didn’t even know the alpha’s name, but he hadn’t known Geralt’s at first, either. This was just his way.</p>
<p>“Okay.” The alpha gave in and let Jaskier drag him into the tent.</p>
<p>Jaskier dragged him through the crowd, straight back to where he’d left Geralt standing and rather put out. Geralt’s back was to him, but everything shifted when he came into view. The alpha’s eyes went wide in recognition, and Jaskier said his <em>name</em>.</p>
<p>“Geralt!”</p>
<p>“Geralt,” the alpha repeated under his breath.</p>
<p>“This one, oh, please, Geralt you must—”</p>
<p>Geralt spun around at the sound of his name, the sound of Jaskier’s insistence, and then stopped. His eyes went wide as he looked at the scene before him. He swallowed, blinked, and then looked at the alpha instead of Jaskier.</p>
<p>“Eskel,” he said. “Didn’t think I’d see you this far out.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this, either.” Eskel laughed, and his laugh was low and rumbling, the kind that made Jaskier shiver.</p>
<p>“You—know each other?” Jaskier gawked.</p>
<p>They spent a moment catching up and talking, explaining why Geralt and Jaskier were here in turn for the story of how Eskel had gotten himself hired as monster protection for a riverside party. That brought them to the matter at hand: that Jaskier was apparently enamored with Eskel and didn’t <em>want</em> to keep looking for another alpha. He knew which one he wanted, and all he needed was Geralt’s approval.</p>
<p>“What do you say, Wolf?” Eskel asked with a smile.</p>
<p>“I think we can try it. For Jaskier’s sake.”</p>
<p>Jaskier saw the looks in their eyes, though, as Eskel and Geralt shook hands and made their deal. They weren’t just going to try and make something work for his sake, not when they both looked like this couldn’t have turned out any better. They’d grown up together, Jaskier learned, and somewhere in that timeline they must have liked each other. They didn’t show it, not openly, but this decision put them both over the moon. As tradition, Eskel sealed his new promise to Jaskier with a kiss to the left cheek, then to the right, and then to the forehead.</p>
<p>The fact that Eskel knew just put another shiver in Jaskier’s spine. He wanted to take it slowly almost as badly as he wanted to jump right into bed with this new Witcher. Both of them, if he could. But it would be a long road before that, because Jaskier still wanted to be courted, and that would take time, regardless of what his loins told him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaskier admitted privately, later, that he adored the idea of being truly and properly <em>wooed</em>, courted, and all. If a fairytale was what he desired, then Geralt was going to make sure he got it, but it required extra time. Extra preparation. A lot of discussion on top of things, because Eskel needed to know exactly what it was the tradition called for. Geralt didn’t mind skipping the bit where he was supposed to have a sort of shovel talk with a new partner—he knew Eskel, and he knew that Eskel would be good for Jaskier. Good for both of them, in fact.</p>
<p>Courting began first and foremost with a show of skill in the most superfluous manner of all: baking. It might have been more adept for the rules to change depending on what type of partner was invited, but it wasn’t truly about showing anything off, just introductions. Eskel was a quiet sort who would have been more comfortably just proving himself in battle with a sword in his hand, but instead he was stuck with the order to make what was not so lovingly referred to as a traditional courtship pie.</p>
<p>“Geralt,” Eskel lamented, looking at the wide range of ingredients strewn out in front of him. “I don’t know how to make a fucking pie. They don’t exactly go over this in Witcher training.”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted. They’d paid a bit of coin to use the kitchen at an inn; it wasn’t as though they had a house to do this from, which meant everything was done on the road with whatever coin they had at the moment.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Geralt said. “Think I know a bit about it, so we’ll throw something together—together,” he said strangely, crinkling his brow. He looked at Eskel, then, whose nervousness had melted down to mirth.</p>
<p>“Somehow, I don’t think that’s in accordance with the rules.”</p>
<p>“Definitely not, but you want this, don’t you? Jaskier may decide to say no just because he couldn’t have a nice pie. Don’t think he cares if we break the rules, he just wants something proper for a change.”</p>
<p>Eskel nodded and agreed well enough. If Geralt could help him make a pie, then the pie would at least be made. Jaskier didn’t need to know <em>how</em> it was made, he just needed to put on his finest silks and meet Eskel at a designated location.</p>
<p>The town they’d stopped in was precisely for this point. While maybe Eskel didn’t have the pull to get into a tournament to prove his worth, he could at least make a show of what they were doing. That was in the rules, and this town was nice enough to have cobblestone streets and a public garden at the center where a large willow tree grew. It was there that Jaskier was to meet Eskel come sundown, and it was there that Eskel was meant to bring his pie.</p>
<p>Baking the thing proved more difficult than facing any monster, and Eskel would have enjoyed more simply fighting the monster. He and Geralt bumbled about, trying to make something that was at least edible, and the end result was slightly burned around the edges. It was at least presentable, which was more than Eskel could ever say for himself, but he didn’t have time to do more than bathe in the river, and he <em>certainly</em> didn’t have any fine silks. Just his armor, which he could at least take off to wear just the shirt beneath.</p>
<p>“What else are you going to do?” Geralt asked. He stared at the pie with just as much criticism as Eskel did.</p>
<p>“Figured I’d just do what I do best.” Eskel shrugged. “Is this all really necessary? He already <em>likes</em> me.”</p>
<p>Geralt grinned. “Necessary, yeah. It’s what he wants.”</p>
<p>Eskel swallowed the lump in his throat. When did he get nervous? It wasn’t as if he was going to be alone, either.</p>
<p>Geralt followed him to the garden and the willow tree because it was proper that he do so. The standing partner was to be present during the courting, unless otherwise stated, and Jaskier hadn’t exactly done that. Geralt just didn’t interfere; he stood far enough off to the side that his presence was a comfort and not a nuisance.</p>
<p>Beneath the willow tree was a fine blanket laid out in the grass which was already filled with small treats. Jaskier wasn’t expected to do anything for the courtship, but he couldn’t help himself but be prepared, and he liked a good glass of wine. He made sure to bring his favorite, and he made sure to look his best. When he met Eskel, he did so wearing a blue-white doublet with silver embroideries and dashing ashen colored boots. Eskel nearly stopped at the sight of him: beautiful.</p>
<p>“Uh—made you this pie,” Eskel said, and Jaskier laughed.</p>
<p>He laughed so beautifully that Eskel knew the entire night would only improve. Jaskier already liked him, and he had to remember that. He wasn’t vying for affection; he was just solidifying it because that’s what Jaskier wanted. It was easy to do what Jaskier wanted, Eskel found, because he had that beautiful look on his face that had Eskel feeling whatever Jaskier felt.</p>
<p>The evening progressed into poetry reading, because Eskel enjoyed poetry. Despite the fact that his fellow Witchers might have not let him live it down, Jaskier enjoyed it immensely. When the poems were melancholy, the look on Jaskier’s face changed, and Eskel felt himself feeling sad for poems he’d read hundreds of times before and never felt an ache of pain. Jaskier wore everything on his sleeves, and Eskel found he liked that more than he didn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Courting continued secondly with a practical gift for the standing partner, which was less about Jaskier, but he still wanted to be there for it. Geralt and Eskel had been friends for decades. Grown up together. Jaskier expected some grand display of something, giddy and excited for what he might be shown, but it turned out to be the opposite. For a long moment, all Geralt and Eskel did was stare at each other before Eskel even remembered he had a gift, and then he presented it entirely unwrapped.</p>
<p>It was supposed to be a practical gift, but this took practical to a whole new level. Eskel presented Geralt with a whetstone to keep his sword sharp. There was no flowery poetry reading on top of it, either just the gift being shoved from one set of hands to the other. Both of them looked flush, and neither one of them seemed to think that this was going to be the hardest part of courting Jaskier—who wasn’t even involved in this particular affair. Just watching.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Geralt muttered.</p>
<p>“I think this is where you act like you’re not strangers,” Jaskier whispered from the side, because he saw it.</p>
<p>He saw what they both thought they were so good at hiding: that they were just as pleased to be in this for each other as they were to be in it for Jaskier. This wouldn’t be a situation where Jaskier just found himself with two partners, not with how they looked at each other. Jaskier could have squealed when he finally saw them act on it, though it wasn’t much to be excited for. Eskel just opened his arms and, despite the spikes on his armor, Geralt leaned in and hugged him.</p>
<p>Eskel hugged back, of course, and tightly. He all but buried his face into Geralt’s neck like he’d never had the pleasure of hugging him before. Though betas didn’t present much of their own scent, and Witchers even less, Eskel still seemed enthralled by what he smelled. He scented Geralt right there, in front of Jaskier, as if it were the most normal and appropriate thing he could have done. It wasn’t, but Geralt didn’t pull away, and Jaskier couldn’t have stopped watching if he tried.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Courting’s third rule was a gift for the party being courted, and it was deemed by tradition that it needed to be expensive by relatively. This was to say that the richer the suitor was, the more expensive the gift should be. Tradition spanned for just about everyone, so the rules would not demand that a farmer save for his whole life only to starve in the next year simply so that he could afford something extravagant. The expense was to be relative to what the courter made, and Eskel did not make a lot.</p>
<p>A Witcher’s life wasn’t a rich one. It was very often being stuck eating mushrooms and herbs instead of a proper meal, and when proper meals came, they were not cooked lovingly over a hearth in a warm inn, but rather cooked crudely on an open fire in the wilderness after the animal had been butchered and cleaned. Eskel tried to keep to small animals, never really having the time to properly clean and dress a larger one, let alone eat it before it went bad. He wouldn’t waste an animal like that.</p>
<p>However, Eskel did have an eye for the finer things. Poetry and literature had his heart for the very reason that they were fine and beautiful, and so did this dress. On invitation from some noble or other, they were in a larger city where Jaskier was to perform for a birthday party of the noble’s son that evening. Knowing his third task, Eskel had taken Geralt and set about the shopping district while Jaskier stayed in the room that he had been provided to prepare for his performance.</p>
<p>“That,” Geralt said, matter-of-factly, “is the most expensive dress I’ve ever seen.”</p>
<p>“It’s not that expensive,” Eskel grumbled. “It’s his color, too. He’d love it. Bet he’d wear it for you before I ever get to see him in it.”</p>
<p>Geralt snorted. That was probably true. It was a long dress with a deep vee collar, though it still gave respectable coverage. The sleeves were double layered and long, similarly styled to that of a trumpet sleeve that nobles wore. The skirt was long and fitted underneath with petticoats to give it a more voluminous shape. Though it certainly wasn’t designed for the bedroom, Geralt could still see Jaskier dancing about in it—<em>happy</em>. He would love it, but the price tag was enormous.</p>
<p>“If we both chip in,” Geralt said, “I bet we could afford most of it. Then talk to the shop keep here, see if they’ve got any work that needs done. That should take care of the rest. Place like this bound to have monsters or bandits.”</p>
<p>“Witcher’s work,” Eskel scoffed. “Are you sure? Aren’t I supposed to be the one buying?”</p>
<p>“Close enough. Jaskier won’t know, and I don’t think he’d care, either way. You’re right. He’d love this.”</p>
<p>Eskel gave a faint smile and nodded. Hearing that he had already learned Jaskier’s taste was nothing short of a compliment. They’d been together on the road for months now, but Eskel wasn’t always the most talkative. Perceptive, maybe, but sometimes without asking the right questions, the right answers weren’t received. Still, Eskel had managed to learn a few things, and he was happy to hear it. Overjoyed, in fact, because the more he knew about Jaskier, the easier this was going to go.</p>
<p>The tailor’s task took most of the day, but by the time the alleys were clear of cloth stealing bandits, the dress had been purchased and both Geralt and Eskel had taken the time to clean up. They were attending the party with Jaskier, and it was the perfect opportunity to hand him over a gift. In front of the whole noble’s household, Eskel was going to openly flaunt that he was courting a bard. A beautiful one, who may or may not have had noble ties of his own. Eskel was nervous, to say the least, but they went to the party.</p>
<p>Like the rest of the guests, they listened to Jaskier dance and sing, but they mostly kept to themselves. Eskel and Geralt had gotten used to each other’s company quickly, and they took solace in it even faster. Tucked off to the side of their room while <em>their</em> bard pranced and entertained, they held hands and leaned in too close to each other for it to be appropriate, but all eyes were on Jaskier. Not them.</p>
<p>Eskel’s cue came in the sound of thundering applause at the end of Jaskier’s final performance of the night. Pushing his way through the crowd, Eskel mustered his courage like he was facing a griffin in its own nest instead of presenting a gift to an omega, but it was all the same at the end. The crowd parted for a large alpha as easily as it ever would, and then Eskel handed over the box without preamble or words.</p>
<p>Jaskier took it, and his eyes lit up as he opened it.</p>
<p>All around them in the noble’s gilded banquet hall, the people began to clap anew for an entirely different reason, now, and Jaskier could have cried. He opened the wrapped box and saw the dress, and then tears <em>did</em> prickle into his eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh, Eskel, it’s beautiful,” Jaskier whispered.</p>
<p>Jaskier couldn’t stop himself from colliding with Eskel, arms around his neck as Eskel’s own wrapped around his middle. The box was all but forgotten, dress less important than he who had gifted it, but Jaskier wouldn’t so easily forget it, either.</p>
<p>“We can just mate,” Eskel muttered. “Don’t need to keep doing all this.” He could feel how much Jaskier <em>wanted</em>, and more than that, he could smell it.</p>
<p>Jaskier hadn’t had a proper heat in a long, long time, and was due to take a break from his suppressants at least for a night. That’s what Eskel was counting on, being able to have that heat. He’d give Jaskier everything he wanted, and then he would bite Jaskier right at the nape of his neck. While he was at it, he’d bite Geralt, too. The bite wouldn’t take like it would on Jaskier, but Eskel could just keep biting. Forever, if he had to. He didn’t want to give either of them up.</p>
<p>“I won’t hear of it,” Jaskier replied, and he was clearly straining to sound as scandalized as he did. “We’ve nearly finished, anyway, and I’ve been enjoying this so much.”</p>
<p>They pulled apart, and Jaskier cupped his hands around Eskel’s jaw. “Won’t you please?” He continued.</p>
<p>It was then that Eskel realized he was a weak, weak man. A stronger man wouldn’t have been able to resist the look on Jaskier’s face nor the glimmer in his eye. He wanted this <em>badly</em>, and who was Eskel to deny him? Courting only demanded one final act, and then Jaskier would finally say yes. So Eskel hoped, anyway. He always had a healthy amount of self-doubt in him.</p>
<p>“I’m flattered, though,” Jaskier made sure to say. He was close enough that, when he whispered these words, his lips brushed against Eskel’s cheek.</p>
<p>Eskel wanted more than anything to take Jaskier right there. To finally know what it was like to kiss him, to <em>taste</em> him. But he composed himself, held himself back, and looked the gentleman that Jaskier needed him to be for the moment. The rest could come later.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Courting gave one final demand in the way of flowers, which Eskel had spent months gathering on his own. He hadn’t just wanted to buy a generic bouquet from the shops; not only would that have been expensive, but it wouldn’t have meant as much as it did for Eskel to cut each one by hand. Given how long it took, too, Eskel had no pretense that he would actually be able to present Jaskier with a true bouquet, either.</p>
<p>Instead, he took one of his older poetry books, one that he didn’t ready so much anymore and simply kept because the worn leather felt nice on his skin and used that to press them. Eskel at first pressed celandine and white myrtle, because these were flowers that Witchers used in their potions. Jaskier knew that, and he would know why they meant something. Why they were important. He hadn’t just accepted one Witcher into his life, but two, and seeing these flowers pressed could read that Eskel was willing to dip into his own safety for Jaskier.</p>
<p>Potions were invaluable, and without the ingredients, they were unmade. Without them, a Witcher’s life was in danger. The connection was obvious, or so Eskel hoped it would be.</p>
<p>He pressed traditional flowers too, like peonies, roses, and baby’s breath. He pressed pink asters, gardenias, and daffodils. He found but one suitable orchid and pressed that, too. Interwoven through the pages, Eskel pressed other things. More useful things, like the leaves of dangerous plants so that Jaskier would never forget which plants he shouldn’t touch and shouldn’t eat. Eskel pressed the flowering buds of safe plants, too, for the opposite reason.</p>
<p>There was one night that, after Jaskier had fallen asleep by the fire and Geralt was still on watch, that Eskel rifled through Jaskier’s bags to find his quill and ink. It was stealing, true, but Eskel didn’t have his own, and he needed it. On each practical page, he wrote with delicate script what the plant was called and why it was here—don’t eat this, eat this but sparingly, and only eat this one if you have eaten something you should not have eaten. On the pages of proper, romantic flowers, Eskel wrote different things.</p>
<p>He wrote things that matched the flowers. Eskel might not have trusted himself with words, but he trusted himself enough to write how much he loved Jaskier with ink on a parchment. Given that it’d been over half a year, Eskel shouldn’t have felt strange to write out <em>love</em>, but it still felt a bit too early. A bit far-fetched, that maybe Jaskier wouldn’t return the feelings. A healthy amount of self-doubt, as it were.</p>
<p>Eskel finished his writing just as Geralt came back from the perimeter of the camp, and Geralt knew better than to say anything as he watched Eskel hurry to clean the quill and put it away, along with the ink, back into Jaskier’s bag.</p>
<p>“I’ll pay for what I used,” Eskel muttered.</p>
<p>Geralt smiled and, instead of speaking, sat down next to Eskel close enough that they touched from shoulder to knee, and with that sort of warmth, Eskel relaxed.</p>
<p>“Never seen you so nervous,” Geralt muttered.</p>
<p>“Never been so nervous.” Eskel agreed.</p>
<p>Geralt eventually moved off to his own bedroll where he fell asleep, meditated—something. It was always hard to tell exactly what, but he had laid down with his back to the fire. Eskel stayed awake to watch it and to watch the camp, which proved to be a lonely task. Lonelier now that he was with two others than it had been when he would watch his own camp with naught but Scorpion at his side. Still, Eskel wasn’t alone for long.</p>
<p>It was sometime during the night when Jaskier stirred, and Eskel didn’t think anything of it. Not until Jaskier pushed himself up, rubbed his eyes, and looked squarely at the open book of pressed flowers that Eskel had forgotten to close and forgotten to hide away.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Jaskier muttered. He smacked his lips and added an afterthought. “Good morning, also. I think.”</p>
<p>Eskel scrambled to grab the book. “It’s nothing,” he said too quickly for Jaskier to believe it.</p>
<p>Eskel wanted to kick himself. He had a plan. It was going to be his final show of extravagance in the exact proper way that the courting rituals demanding it, but Jaskier had already seen the book. Worse, he knew that the book wasn’t nothing. Eskel was too obvious in how quickly he’d grabbed it. If it were nothing, he wouldn’t have minded that Jaskier saw it or that Jaskier had tried to reach for it, to investigate.</p>
<p>“Is it for me?” Jaskier asked, too tired for proper decorum.</p>
<p>Eskel sighed and gave up, too weak to deny Jaskier that cute look on his face, the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I was going to try and get us a dinner in the city next. Make it a big thing, but—”</p>
<p>He handed Jaskier the book instead, and Jaskier sat up on his knees to take it. Jaskier relaxed back onto his haunches as he flipped through the book, and each new page that he saw contorted his face a little more. He saw the celandine and the white myrtle and knew what they meant. Then he saw the roses and the prickly leaves of a poisonous plant on the next page. At the explanation not to eat it, Jaskier grinned, laughed, and nearly cried all at once.</p>
<p>At the next page, Jaskier saw more romantic flowers and the leaves of a bush that produced sweet berries nearly all year round, always safe to eat. Eskel’s notes were more endearing than the flowers, were, but Jaskier looked at everything. Read everything. He even tried to peer at the words from the poems left open to parse their meaning, if they had any. His heart swelled, and by the time Jaskier had finished with the book, tears dripped down his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Eskel,” he breathed.</p>
<p>He didn’t need to say anything more, just act. Eskel sat there, leaned against a rock, and looked nothing short of inviting and open. Jaskier scrambled to take that invitation, all but throwing himself into Eskel’s lap. He got his arms around Eskel’s neck, his fingers into Eskel’s hair, and took what he’d wanted for so long, now. A kiss. When their lips locked together, Jaskier moaned and arched against Eskel. Tilting his head, he deepened their kiss, and it was only then that Eskel got past the shock of his attack.</p>
<p>With a tight squeeze, Eskel brought Jaskier as close as he could be; their bodies were flush, and their kiss was hot and sloppy. Jaskier’s tongue dipped out, saliva already dripping down his chin, and Eskel responded with as much enthusiasm as he had to spare: all of it. He groaned into their kiss, his hands searching blindly under Jaskier’s open chemise to feel his soft, supple skin.</p>
<p>“<em>Eskel</em>,” Jaskier gasped, pulling back just long enough to shift properly in Eskel’s lap.</p>
<p>He could feel Eskel’s cock hardening beneath him, and it was <em>big</em>. Nice and thick. A proper alpha’s cock, and the feeling of it made Jaskier shudder. He dove back down for another, hot kiss, and only broke from it when Eskel pulled him back.</p>
<p>“We shouldn’t—”</p>
<p>“I can’t wait any longer,” Jaskier snapped, his voice still soft. “Take me. Wake Geralt for all I care. Let him see what you’ll do to me, <em>oh</em>—”</p>
<p>Jaskier gave a soft cry as Eskel’s hips bucked beneath him, and just like that, Eskel surged up and pushed Jaskier’s back down to the ground with a thump. If it hurt, Jaskier didn’t show it. Instead, he helped to scramble out of his trousers, his panties, and spread his legs for Eskel. They had all night, and if Geralt woke to watch, then that would be just perfect.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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